The Revenge of Robert Edwin House
by GoFrnkYourself
Summary: Robert House is barely walking when his parents are killed in a freak accident. A traitorous heir and a revenge driven prostitute are in an impossible battle and Robert is left to resolve the issue, in his own way.
1. The incident at the airbase

((This is a story about the half brothers Robert and Anthony House from Fallout: New Vegas and their lives before the nuclear holocaust that made the Falloit universe what it is today.))

"Tony, son, I want you to listen to me _very_ carefully."  
Anthony's eyes remained dead straight as his father spluttered his last words from the front seat of the autogyro.  
"Take that parachute and jump, try and land on grass if you can, I'm going to pilot this confounded thing to the ground if it kills me!"  
The young man strapped the parachute to his back and leapt with a precise skill he'd developed through many tedious flights with his father, he considered attempting a summersault but decided that given his father's imminent death, that'd be rather inappropriate, and he didn't want to be banned from the tool shed again.  
"I LOVE YOU TONY!" Squawked the doddery old man as he manoeuvred into the storm right before his eyes.  
"Pitiful emotion." Observed Anthony, "That man is as good as dead."

A wicked arc of lightning illuminated the greyed skies, and sliced into the body of the autogyro. The vehicle whipped into a vicious spiral, picking up speed and rapidly approaching the landing strip. A certain mrs House stood frozen in terror, as five hundred pounds of statically charged metal hurtled through the air and tore straight into her.

Anthony landed with the grace of a feather and stood next to his whimpering half brother and gave him a customary pat on the shoulder.  
"Mommy..." Struggled Robert.  
Anthony shook his head dismissively, "Save it, kid."

Anthony walked towards the wreckage with a searching purpose, almost concerned about the outcome of the accident. As he approached the mangled machine, the rain from the storm reached the airbase, a hammering filling the air as thousands of watery needles crashed against the metal of the autogyro, the indescribable odour of wet Tarmac invaded his nostrils. He found himself staring at the corpses of his parents, their faces casting a contrast of one another. Anthony's father had his teeth bared, his facial features painting a vivid picture of the fear he had felt in the last few moments of his life where he was totally aware of his imminent death. Robert's mother lay limply, less than emptily at the foot of the vehicle, her face calm, almost composed, in spite of her being short of anything remotely human below her neck, having been crushed and killed instantly by the autogyro.

Anthony tutted, stifled a grin, then whipped round to look at Robert, his face suddenly plastered with horror. Robert toddled quickly to his older brother's side, consoling him as best he could, mumbling and begging for him to stop crying. For a few minutes, on that awful day, Robert Edwin House had a brother.


	2. The Nevada whore

Several weeks after the events of the airbase, Anthony House had argued - with the help of a small army of lawyers and some underhanded techniques which have never truly come to light - that his infant brother wasn't to inherit the late Edwin House's tool company: H&H.

In fact, young Robert didn't inherit a thing from his parents, save for a cliché locket of his mother's with nothing but sentimental value. Robert did however live in the care of the House family butlers, paid for by Edwin in advance several years prior to Robert's birth. Anthony was seldom seen around the House estate, what with running a hugely successful tools company on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Not everything was going so fantastically for the eldest House child however.

Growing up in Nevada, you learn three golden rules. One, you don't dig in the desert, god knows what you're gonna find and god definitely didn't put it there. Two, nuclear energy is the future: anything that you do in your career, involve nuclear power as best as you can. And finally: don't fuck a Las Vegas prostitute if you can't pay her in full.

Anthony House was an entrepreneurial mastermind, he exploited every secret he knew and was fast becoming somewhat of a celebrity throughout the Mojave. One day, Anthony decided to pay a visit to a customer of his in Las Vegas. The mysterious gentleman he dealt with was a tall, aged gambler called Jasper, who ran one of the most infamous casinos on the strip.  
During Anthony's stay at Jasper's, he met a young girl with whom he became particularly infatuated, so he consulted Jasper about her. The old man revealed she was a whore, working for the casino. Anthony was - if anything - relieved, he'd never been particularly good at talking to women and what he needed was a fuck with no strings attached. He approached the young blonde woman the following night, she wore a thin pink nighty as if she was going to sleep at a moments notice. The whore smiled a crooked smile at the boy as he neared her, he mumbled a greeting and she unveiled a thick Texan drawl "Hey there sweetheart!" She cheered in a manner befitting a 70 year old. "Looking for a _ride_?"  
The girl cackled and then whispered in a flat Scandinavian tone: "I'm just fucking with you honey, or rather, I will be, yes?"  
"I..uhh.." Anthony was thoroughly taken aback, and he stammered a lot as he asked how much she cost.  
"You've got a lot of nerve thinking I'm a WHORE, boy!" The cackle echoed around the casino again, "$150 an hour is my usual rate, but seeing as it's you..." She winked, "how's about we call it a hundred?"

After a night of unparalleled sex and illegal substances, Anthony made a break for it. He hopped over the fence and as he did he felt something fall from his jacket pocket, when he looked behind him searching the pitch blackness he heard a brutal squeal of car tyres in the distance - forget about it - so he ran headlong into the desert. He concealed himself in the darkness of the morning and waited for his search party to grow weary. When they finally did he made his way back to the estate, laughing maniacally and crawling into bed.

Anthony had racked up $600 in fees to that hooker and he didn't plan on paying it back to a sleazy casino boss, this was what he deemed suitable vengeance on a customer who was rude to him over the phone. Anthony has a sick sense of justice.


	3. The debt and the secret

There was a knock at the door the following morning.  
Anthony peered through his window as a maid opened the door, he didn't recognise the stocky man who drove the luxurious sports car who was pressing a thin envelope into the hand before walking back to his vehicle , but then he heard a particularly familiar squeal of tyres. Cursing under his breath he made his way to the top of the staircase and sought the cubby hole where his mail was kept. Once he found it Anthony fumbled for his pocket laser and singed the envelope open.

"Anthony,

You're really dumb for a genius, kid. You ran away from my casino without paying one of my whores, but you left one bit of incriminating evidence: the whore! So here's how it'll work, I'll arrive at YOUR place of work and we'll settle this. I'd suggest you turn up before I fuck a screwdriver and don't pay you for it.

Lots of love and kisses,

Jasper M"

In spite of his situation, Anthony laughed: an impossible chortle at how out of character this predicament was for Anthony, cool and calculating Anthony, the man who forgot to kill the fucking prostitute. "If that isn't my epitaph," he thought, laughing even more.

It wasn't far to H&H from the estate, but Anthony elected to drive anyway. As he pulled up at the building, he noticed the car from earlier. It had blacked out windows which explained why he couldn't see Jasper in the car when it was outside his house. It could be assumed that Jasper had brought the stocky delivery boy as muscle.  
Anthony walked into the warehouse floor and thanked god that Jasper wasn't pleasuring the power tools. As he closed the door behind him the muscle stood between him and his exit. Amusingly Anthony had misjudged the size of this man. He was stocky for certain, but he was as tall as he was wide, this was a real mountain of a man. The mountain grunted at little Anthony as he made his way further inside. Jasper was perched on a work table wearing slacks with suspenders, hell, he could almost be one of the workers.

"Good evening, Mr House!" Roared the old geezer, "I assume you brought the _full_ payment?"  
Anthony kept his stare straight, "naturally." And he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his chequebook and scribbled some numbers onto one of the pages. He tore out the cheque and handed it to the old man.  
"Terrific!" Exclaimed Jasper, "I'm glad to see you know when you're beat, kid."  
Jasper's face changed, suddenly all business, "is there somewhere private where we can talk?"

Anthony led the man to a back room of the warehouse and stopped at a table where he began to tinker with a small device he'd sneakily pulled out of his pocket.  
"What're you fiddling with there, boy?"  
"Just a pocket laser that a customer sent in, blasted things have a habit of breaking from time to time." Answered Anthony, "so what is it we need to discuss?"  
Jasper unfolded a sheet of paper with a date from about two months ago written across the top and a series of important looking numbers all over the page, "this" stated Jasper, matter of factly. Anthony's eyes widened and he began to focus more on the pocket laser, taking a component out and replacing it with one that appeared to be a sickly green in colour.  
"I...have no idea what that is," begged Anthony, "give it here, let me look at it!"  
"Oh my," a wicked grin flashed across Jasper's face, "I think I'm going to be keeping this actually..." The grin grew wider until the old man looked like the Cheshire Cat, "and I think you're going to be doing a lot of very nice things for me from now on!"  
A sigh escaped Anthony's lips, "how much do you know?"


	4. Jasper's testimony

**How much do you know?**

Jasper Michaels' testimony

Well kid, I'm no detective, but I couldn't help but see what you've done here.  
This sheet that you must've dropped in your haste to leave my establishment is a meteorological statement! Or in human speak, a weather forecast. And the date across the top: "Wednesday 9th December 2020." Early Christmas present perhaps?

I thought it was odd that you had in your possession a weather forecast for a day several months back, but I guess you kept it for sentimental value. Seeing as that was the day your father died, what was the nature of his death again? Oh yes, a freak accident with an autogyro where he was struck by lightning. Now I might be clutching at straws here but I think I've got you pegged.

_You_ convinced your father to take you out in the gyro on the day a huge storm was to hit. _You_ _knew_ he wouldn't abandon his prized vehicle, you _KNEW_ he would get himself killed. _You_ sent your father to his death. Not only that! _You_ cheated your little brother out of his inheritance, and _you_ got this prosperous company all to yourself.

You're a worthless dirtbag, and I can't wait for you to get what's coming to you. That brother of yours? He's a _prodigy_, he's walking and talking already? He's eight months old! That bastard child is going to take you for everything you've got, he's going to ruin you, he's going to leave you in his dust and make sure nobody remembers you, and my my, don't you deserve it.

I'm going to take my leave now, I'll be in touch very soon.


	5. Paranoia

As Jasper walked out of the door Anthony could barely catch his breath. It was too late to try to remedy this situation. He grabbed the upgraded pocket laser and pointed it at Mr Michaels' car. He carefully watched until Mr Michaels was inside the vehicle, then he squinted his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

A pulse of energy emanated from the laser and wormed its way into the reactor that powered the car. As the mountain put his foot to the pedal an eruption of unstable nuclear force flashed a blinding light that washed over the warehouse. Anthony reached for the medicine cabinet and took a couple hits of Rad-X to keep himself safe.  
As a miniature mushroom cloud enveloped the car, the bodies of Jasper and his colleague were burnt beyond recognition, Anthony allowed himself a momentary sigh of relief and he stalked off to his office.

After sitting for what must've felt like days at his desk with his head in his hands, he finally snapped. His mind was working overtime and he was consumed with guilt due to what he'd done to his brother. A disease was plaguing poor Anthony's mind, his thoughts twisted by fear. He sent an email to a small but efficient security company and they arrived the next day. A wiry old man with a goatee sat across from Anthony at his desk and they discussed what the company building lacked in terms of security, and how there could be upgrades put in place. Over the course of the next three years an unprecedented amount of Anthony's fortune was pumped into making H&H tools an impenetrable fortress.

The original peeling wooden doors were replaced with heavy, bolted steel doors. They had three locks, one that could be opened by anyone with a key, another that had to be activated by a specific PIN number known to the caretakers and managerial staff, and a third that was hidden behind a leaden sheath that could only be activated by Anthony's retinas and thumbprints. When there was nobody in the building, two tiers of locks were permanently active. During the working day however, only the first tier remained active so that all employees could come and go. There was a gate before the doors that opened for anyone, but it was attached to the alarmed chain link fence that had always been in place, so this wasn't really a chink in the armour.

One way bullet resistant glass was set up, that is, glass that can be shot out of but not into. Additionally iron spikes jutted out from all the windows so that the building could not be scaled, this also meant the windows could not be opened at any time. With the Nevada sun searing the entire building, air conditioning was a priority, and state of the art AC units were set up in every room so that the employees didn't fry.

Anthony had a panic room put installed adjacent to his office, and had it filled with explosives, guns and tinned food enough to last two months. The walls of the panic room were a foot thick all the way around, and they exuded an electromagnetic aura so that the power tools in H&H would prove ineffective if used to penetrate the room.  
24 hour surveillance was set up and was constantly being played on the screens in the panic room and being recorded onto holotape for use as potential evidence. Whether that be to incriminate intruders or absolve Anthony.

The most expensive-looking item purchased by Anthony for the defense of his fortress of doom was a colossal Gatling gun mounted on the roof above the doors in line with the gate in the fence. This wasn't actually expensive because it wasn't automatic. Someone would have to get behind the huge weapon to actually fire it, so it mostly served to intimidate. Anthony was pleased with everything he'd ordered, and was told it'd take 5 years to install it all. Anthony then educated the old man about the fate of Jasper Michael and the work was done in two years.

Anthony went home for the first time in almost three years and saw his brother, four years old, sprawled out on the sofa reading a Shakespearean play and making notes in a navy blue notebook. Jasper's words resonated in Anthony's mind and he shuddered, making his way to the master bedroom, "he's going to _ruin_ you..." He muttered absentmindedly, and he passed out in the four poster bed.


End file.
